


Don't Swallow The Cap

by stevebuckyevans



Category: Sense8 (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, LIKE A LOT OF ANGST, Non-Graphic Violence, Wolfgang Bogdanow-centric, everyone else is just mentioned tbh, wolfgang needs love i live for him
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-14
Updated: 2017-01-14
Packaged: 2018-09-17 12:48:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9324281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stevebuckyevans/pseuds/stevebuckyevans
Summary: The water pours down on him like a breath of fresh air, only now does he notice how tired and sore his body feels.(he tries not to look at the blood on his hands, tries to forget how it can’t be washed away)





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hii, so i wrote this after binge - re watching sense8 AGAIN and wow i just really love wolfgang bogdanow and i think he's probably one of if not the most interesting and intriguing character ever.  
> The rest of the cluster is only mentioned briefly

                                                                                                           

_I have only two emotions ; careful fear and dead devotion._

 

When Wolfgang was 5 years old, he was told that his mother had died under ‘’suspicious circumstances’’ when she went out to the supermarket last night to buy milk.

Being the 5-year-old that he was he of course did not understand what that meant. However, he took one look at his father’s bloody knuckles, remembered how the carton of milk in their fridge was still halfway full, and _understood._

After that day, Wolfgang, had learned to not ask questions, partly because his father was not a fan of his son being curious about things, and partly because he knew he did not really want to hear any of the answers.

That’s why when he suddenly became a sensate as a 27-year-old, he did not let his (messy) mind wander too much, all he knew was that now he could speak languages he did not know and that occasionally he woke up in bedrooms that did not belong to him.

Besides, pretty Indian girls and 7 other people in his head proofed to be the last of his worries. He had an unconscious Felix to worry about, he had spent the last 24 hours killing all the remaining members of the Bogdanow family, so yes you could say he had more to worry about.

The thing is, as he’s checking in to the cheapest motel he could find in Berlin he suddenly realizes that he doesn’t have a plan. He went in to that house with one gun and no back up, Felix would call him a crazy bad ass motherfucker with a lot of confidence. Anyone else would see how _maybe, just maybe_ Wolfgang wasn’t planning ( _didn’t want to)_ to leave that house alive.

It wasn’t a suicide mission or some act of bravery, he was simply very tired.

The one person he had left in this world, the only one who mattered was currently fighting for his life in a hospital bed, anyone else he cares about lives in his fucking head, and the only girl he ever really wanted just witnessed him murder someone.

He tells himself it’s better this way, Rajan loves her deeply and can take care of both her and her family in a way Wolfgang himself never could.

As he’s taking off his clothes and turning on what little warm water this shithole has to offer, his mind wanders to a place he tries very hard to ignore.

That part of him that came out today again, he’s not talking about the safecracker who steals diamonds or any of his and Felix’ petty crimes, no, he’s thinking about a 13 year old _kid (_ because that’s all he ever was ; just a _kid_ ) who’s hands used to shake while singing on stage or when someone got a little too close but when he wraps a cord around his father neck that night and _pulls_ , his hands are steadier than ever.

15 years ago, with something that resembles both a sob and a laugh he realizes his hands haven’t shook since that night. Not when he’s cracking a safe, not when he pulls triggers.

The water pours down on him like a breath of fresh air, only now does he notice how tired and sore his body feels. (he tries not to look at the blood on his hands, tries to forget how it can’t be washed away)

Sometimes he wants to try, he feels like pouring a bottle of bleach on them and scrubbing and scrubbing until the smell of them makes him vomit, he wants to buy a ticket to somewhere where no one knows who he is or what his last name is and just _leave._

Unfortunately, he can’t. He has the money and he could just transport Felix to the best hospital that place has to offer but he just _can’t._ He was born here, has lived here all his life and as much as Berlin feels like a prison these days, it’s also home. A small voice in his head tell him he can travel the entire fucking world and he’ll still end up back here, not because he wants to, but because this place made him the man ( _monster_ ) that he is today, his city is burned into his skin.

He turns the water off when he notices it’s absolutely freezing, he steps out of the shower and wraps a suspicious looking towel around him.

Idly he wonders if he’ll ever be warm again. ( _He thinks of jasmine scented rooms, his Father’s curry on a Sunday night and no that’s not his life to remember_ )

He still doesn’t have a plan, Will is still unconscious, Riley is still the only thing keeping him together, Nomi is still on the run, Lito hasn’t left Dani’s house yet, Capheus knows the medicine is only avoiding something that’s bound to happen, Sun’s fists still haven’t healed and Kala, well, Kala is still a memory aching in the back of his head of what could have been.

The sheets smell like piss and they look as if no one has even bothered to replace them for the past decade but he still lays down and wraps them around him because nothing he touches can ever be clean anyway.

His head hurts and his mind is spinning with thoughts that aren’t exactly his, he wishes he could shut them all off. (should he feel guilty for thinking that?)

All he wants to do is fall into a deep, dreamless slumber for about 4 days but the smell of his father’s burning flesh is almost making him run to the bathroom, he decides against it, swallows past whatever memory threatens to haunt him again and tries to get his mind to be as blank as possible.

 

_I’m not alone, I’ll never be._

_And to the bone, I’m evergreen_

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Quotes and title from the song Dont Swallow the Cap by The National. I suggest you listen to it while reading.


End file.
